LordOfLeather
A-List Customer
- Messages
- 435
- Location
- Michigan
I've been meaning to post about this jacket for years. I suspect doing so may damage my reputation here beyond repair.
I own a lot of leather jackets. Some have objectively better leather than this one. Some are more historically significant. Some are more functional motorcycle jackets.
But this is still my favorite.
If my house were burning down and I could save only one jacket, this is the one I'd grab.
And now for the part that might get me banned: It's a Coach.
"Coach?"
"Fashion jacket."
"Pre-distressed leather?"
"Those zippers are ridiculous."
Yes.
Yes.
And yes.
I love this jacket.
In fact, after many years of buying, selling, obsessing over, and generally making poor financial decisions involving leather jackets, this is still my favorite jacket in my collection. Not my favorite motorcycle jacket. Not my favorite heritage jacket. Not necessarily the best-made jacket I own. My favorite.
And that's saying something, because I've accumulated some pretty serious competition over the years. But I could replace most of them. I could have another custom Aero or Thedi made. I could buy another Schott or Vanson. I've never seen another one of these in person, or for sale online in my size.
The jacket:
This is a Coach “Racer” jacket from the FW2016 collection, made from “rub-off” goatskin, with a cupro lining and cowhide trim. The leather has a black topcoat designed to wear through at points of friction, revealing the grayish undertone beneath.
Coach apparently decided that ordinary zippers weren't nearly stupid enough. The main zipper is an enormous size 18, with slightly smaller zippers on the pockets, sleeves and waist adjusters. I know many of the traditionalists here already consider a size 10 zipper excessive, so I expect some scoffing to ensue.
I regret to inform you that this jacket has chosen violence.
The zippers are enormous, and I absolutely adore them.
The funny thing is, the zippers aren't just there for the visual drama; they're fantastically functional. The pulls are incredibly easy to grab, particularly when wearing gloves. This jacket obviously isn’t proper motorcycle gear, but I occasionally wear it on the bike and those giant zipper pulls are fantastic when I’m wearing motorcycle gloves.
They're also unbelievably satisfying to operate. They are so smooth and sound like nothing else. There is something about the feel and sound of those giant metal teeth engaging that is almost absurdly tactile.
I suspect that when I'm 85 and my hands are arthritic, these ridiculous zippers will “come in clutch,” as one of my kids recently said to me (and then had to explain). So perhaps Coach was simply thinking ahead.
The pattern is also excellent. The fit is close and flattering without being restrictive, and the pattern gives me excellent range of motion. The pockets are positioned exactly where I want them, and—something I appreciate much more than I used to—the pocket bags are perfectly sized. I've owned plenty of jackets where the pockets are too deep, too shallow, angled strangely, or otherwise annoying. Sunglasses slide sideways. Things disappear into the abyss. You put your hands somewhere and immediately realize the designer apparently never actually put their hands in the pockets.
These don't do any of that. They're just right.
The cupro lining is also excellent. Comfortable, smooth, and breathable.
The leather is another reason I love it. This isn't heavyweight motorcycle-grade leather and I'm not going to pretend it is. But it is substantial enough to last a lifetime and the goatskin has fantastic character and grain.
The rub-off finish is particularly interesting to me. The black isn't simply an artificially distressed jacket that arrived looking like someone dragged it behind a truck. Instead, there's a relatively thin black topcoat over the underlying leather, and the high-friction areas gradually reveal the grayish undertone. It's essentially tea-core in spirit, although the undertone is much more gray than the typical light brown/tan you see with tea-core.
I know "pre-distressed" is practically a dirty word around here, but here's my counterargument:
I own a lot of leather jackets. I rotate them. A lot.
Which means that if I waited for every jacket to develop dramatic wear naturally, I'd need to live another 300 years.
I actually love having one jacket where the aging process is accelerated a little. The leather records wear much more readily, and I get to see the jacket changing as I use it. That's not fake patina to me. It's just a different way of designing the leather.
And honestly, I find the distinction between this and something like tea-core leather somewhat amusing. We happily celebrate leather that was intentionally constructed to reveal a contrasting color through wear, but somehow it's more legitimate when the tannery calls it tea-core instead of Coach calling it rub-off.
Coach was actually my introduction to nice leather jackets. I had always associated Coach with women's handbags and the ubiquitous C-logo stuff, and honestly, I didn't like the brand one bit. Then I saw a minimalist black men's café racer on a mannequin in a Coach outlet (not this maximalist version) and was immediately captivated. The leather was supple with beautiful grain. The hardware felt substantial. The design was simple and clean. It was the first time I really stopped and thought: Oh. Leather jackets can be this nice.
I started looking more closely at Coach's leather goods and discovered that the company had much deeper roots in fine leather craftsmanship than its mall-fashion reputation suggested.
I've owned a few Coach jackets over the years, and every one I've had has been extremely well made. Yes, they say "Made in China." If that automatically disqualifies something for you, I suppose there's not much I can do about that. But the actual workmanship on mine have been excellent—often cleaner than some of my much more expensive jackets from "heritage" brands. The stitching is exceptionally neat, the thread is substantial, and the leather choices can be genuinely interesting.
One jacket I owned used deerskin for the main body, sheepskin for the sleeves, and cowhide for the accents, with all of those materials identified on the tag. That's the sort of detail I appreciate, but is seldom seen on fashion brands.
Another Coach jacket I owned used what they called "glove-tanned leather." That sent me down a rabbit hole because I knew glove leather, but I hadn't encountered that particular terminology. Eventually I learned about Coach's historical fascination with the way a beloved baseball glove ages—softening, darkening, and developing character through use. And that philosophy really resonated with me, because that's what I want from leather. I don't want something that stays pristine forever. I want something that becomes mine. Which brings me back to this ridiculous jacket.
I've bought much more serious leather jackets since I bought this one. Better motorcycle jackets, more historically significant jackets, more expensive jackets, more obsessively crafted jackets… And I still love this one most.
Part of that is because it's unusual. I've seen many Coach jackets with this general pattern, but almost always in more conventional proportions, made of lambskin, with normal-sized zippers. This one is different. The combination of goatskin, rub-off finish, and absolutely ludicrous oversized hardware just hits a sweet spot for me.
I've never encountered another one in the wild, which is part of what makes it special to me. I sometimes think of it like a concept car. You know the type: the manufacturer unveils some absolutely insane prototype with all sorts of brilliant details, everyone loves it, and then the production version arrives with half of those details rounded off because apparently someone in accounting had a nervous breakdown.
This feels like the concept car that actually made it into production. I’m so glad they didn't make the zippers smaller.
Ultimately, though, I think I love it because it's completely unapologetic. It doesn't try to be a traditional motorcycle jacket. It doesn't try to be a historical reproduction. It doesn't care whether some guy on the internet thinks a size 18 zipper is aesthetically inappropriate. It's a beautifully made jacket with serious leather, excellent construction, fantastic functionality, and comically oversized hardware.
And that's exactly why I love it.
I've spent enough time in the leather world to know all the reasons I'm supposed to prefer something else. Yet this jacket has been my favorite for nearly ten years. It's comfortable. It's functional. It's beautifully made. It ages in a way I enjoy. The pockets are perfect. The lining is excellent. The leather has character.
And those ****ing zippers.
I regret nothing.
I own a lot of leather jackets. Some have objectively better leather than this one. Some are more historically significant. Some are more functional motorcycle jackets.
But this is still my favorite.
If my house were burning down and I could save only one jacket, this is the one I'd grab.
And now for the part that might get me banned: It's a Coach.
"Coach?"
"Fashion jacket."
"Pre-distressed leather?"
"Those zippers are ridiculous."
Yes.
Yes.
And yes.
I love this jacket.
In fact, after many years of buying, selling, obsessing over, and generally making poor financial decisions involving leather jackets, this is still my favorite jacket in my collection. Not my favorite motorcycle jacket. Not my favorite heritage jacket. Not necessarily the best-made jacket I own. My favorite.
And that's saying something, because I've accumulated some pretty serious competition over the years. But I could replace most of them. I could have another custom Aero or Thedi made. I could buy another Schott or Vanson. I've never seen another one of these in person, or for sale online in my size.
The jacket:
This is a Coach “Racer” jacket from the FW2016 collection, made from “rub-off” goatskin, with a cupro lining and cowhide trim. The leather has a black topcoat designed to wear through at points of friction, revealing the grayish undertone beneath.
Coach apparently decided that ordinary zippers weren't nearly stupid enough. The main zipper is an enormous size 18, with slightly smaller zippers on the pockets, sleeves and waist adjusters. I know many of the traditionalists here already consider a size 10 zipper excessive, so I expect some scoffing to ensue.
I regret to inform you that this jacket has chosen violence.
The zippers are enormous, and I absolutely adore them.
The funny thing is, the zippers aren't just there for the visual drama; they're fantastically functional. The pulls are incredibly easy to grab, particularly when wearing gloves. This jacket obviously isn’t proper motorcycle gear, but I occasionally wear it on the bike and those giant zipper pulls are fantastic when I’m wearing motorcycle gloves.
They're also unbelievably satisfying to operate. They are so smooth and sound like nothing else. There is something about the feel and sound of those giant metal teeth engaging that is almost absurdly tactile.
I suspect that when I'm 85 and my hands are arthritic, these ridiculous zippers will “come in clutch,” as one of my kids recently said to me (and then had to explain). So perhaps Coach was simply thinking ahead.
The pattern is also excellent. The fit is close and flattering without being restrictive, and the pattern gives me excellent range of motion. The pockets are positioned exactly where I want them, and—something I appreciate much more than I used to—the pocket bags are perfectly sized. I've owned plenty of jackets where the pockets are too deep, too shallow, angled strangely, or otherwise annoying. Sunglasses slide sideways. Things disappear into the abyss. You put your hands somewhere and immediately realize the designer apparently never actually put their hands in the pockets.
These don't do any of that. They're just right.
The cupro lining is also excellent. Comfortable, smooth, and breathable.
The leather is another reason I love it. This isn't heavyweight motorcycle-grade leather and I'm not going to pretend it is. But it is substantial enough to last a lifetime and the goatskin has fantastic character and grain.
The rub-off finish is particularly interesting to me. The black isn't simply an artificially distressed jacket that arrived looking like someone dragged it behind a truck. Instead, there's a relatively thin black topcoat over the underlying leather, and the high-friction areas gradually reveal the grayish undertone. It's essentially tea-core in spirit, although the undertone is much more gray than the typical light brown/tan you see with tea-core.
I know "pre-distressed" is practically a dirty word around here, but here's my counterargument:
I own a lot of leather jackets. I rotate them. A lot.
Which means that if I waited for every jacket to develop dramatic wear naturally, I'd need to live another 300 years.
I actually love having one jacket where the aging process is accelerated a little. The leather records wear much more readily, and I get to see the jacket changing as I use it. That's not fake patina to me. It's just a different way of designing the leather.
And honestly, I find the distinction between this and something like tea-core leather somewhat amusing. We happily celebrate leather that was intentionally constructed to reveal a contrasting color through wear, but somehow it's more legitimate when the tannery calls it tea-core instead of Coach calling it rub-off.
Coach was actually my introduction to nice leather jackets. I had always associated Coach with women's handbags and the ubiquitous C-logo stuff, and honestly, I didn't like the brand one bit. Then I saw a minimalist black men's café racer on a mannequin in a Coach outlet (not this maximalist version) and was immediately captivated. The leather was supple with beautiful grain. The hardware felt substantial. The design was simple and clean. It was the first time I really stopped and thought: Oh. Leather jackets can be this nice.
I started looking more closely at Coach's leather goods and discovered that the company had much deeper roots in fine leather craftsmanship than its mall-fashion reputation suggested.
I've owned a few Coach jackets over the years, and every one I've had has been extremely well made. Yes, they say "Made in China." If that automatically disqualifies something for you, I suppose there's not much I can do about that. But the actual workmanship on mine have been excellent—often cleaner than some of my much more expensive jackets from "heritage" brands. The stitching is exceptionally neat, the thread is substantial, and the leather choices can be genuinely interesting.
One jacket I owned used deerskin for the main body, sheepskin for the sleeves, and cowhide for the accents, with all of those materials identified on the tag. That's the sort of detail I appreciate, but is seldom seen on fashion brands.
Another Coach jacket I owned used what they called "glove-tanned leather." That sent me down a rabbit hole because I knew glove leather, but I hadn't encountered that particular terminology. Eventually I learned about Coach's historical fascination with the way a beloved baseball glove ages—softening, darkening, and developing character through use. And that philosophy really resonated with me, because that's what I want from leather. I don't want something that stays pristine forever. I want something that becomes mine. Which brings me back to this ridiculous jacket.
I've bought much more serious leather jackets since I bought this one. Better motorcycle jackets, more historically significant jackets, more expensive jackets, more obsessively crafted jackets… And I still love this one most.
Part of that is because it's unusual. I've seen many Coach jackets with this general pattern, but almost always in more conventional proportions, made of lambskin, with normal-sized zippers. This one is different. The combination of goatskin, rub-off finish, and absolutely ludicrous oversized hardware just hits a sweet spot for me.
I've never encountered another one in the wild, which is part of what makes it special to me. I sometimes think of it like a concept car. You know the type: the manufacturer unveils some absolutely insane prototype with all sorts of brilliant details, everyone loves it, and then the production version arrives with half of those details rounded off because apparently someone in accounting had a nervous breakdown.
This feels like the concept car that actually made it into production. I’m so glad they didn't make the zippers smaller.
Ultimately, though, I think I love it because it's completely unapologetic. It doesn't try to be a traditional motorcycle jacket. It doesn't try to be a historical reproduction. It doesn't care whether some guy on the internet thinks a size 18 zipper is aesthetically inappropriate. It's a beautifully made jacket with serious leather, excellent construction, fantastic functionality, and comically oversized hardware.
And that's exactly why I love it.
I've spent enough time in the leather world to know all the reasons I'm supposed to prefer something else. Yet this jacket has been my favorite for nearly ten years. It's comfortable. It's functional. It's beautifully made. It ages in a way I enjoy. The pockets are perfect. The lining is excellent. The leather has character.
And those ****ing zippers.
I regret nothing.
I wish I could be that in-depth and specific when writing about my jackets haha.
